Purge the Unholy [Closed IC]

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Ramses
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Purge the Unholy [Closed IC]

Post by Ramses » Fri Jul 13, 2018 9:22 pm

MADAGASCAR

In the old days, traveling to the far corners of the Earth would make a man a legend. Now, when one could be anywhere on the planet within 48 hours, journeying to exotic locales had lost its original luster to men like Ramsay Westing, currently lounging on a beach on the edge of the Indian Ocean. With money to spare, he had time to relax between his great exploits, vacationing in places most men had never even heard of.

A private island off the coast of Madagascar was perfect for a short getaway, and with only a few other renters present, he was free to relax alone. Presently, he lounged half-nude on a towel near the water, his skin drinking in the Sun's rays. Ocean breeze passed over his sculpted body, the product of obsessive training and inherited super-human genetics. A pair of black sunglasses rested on his nose; all around him, the beach was flat. Just the surf and the sand.

About 75 meters away was his rented beachhouse, where most of his belongings were, as well as the keys to a parked Lexus RS (also rented). At his side was a book that delved into the origins and influence of Blackwater, an American PMC. He allowed his eyes to close, the Sun high in the cloudless sky above.


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Re: Purge the Unholy [Closed IC]

Post by Quirbles » Sat Jul 14, 2018 1:05 am

”Nice place you got here.”

Ailyn Mendoza stared out of the lounge window, observing the encroaching tide upon the sands as the sun slowly began to fall earthbound; it could be considered evening, but there was still ample light out. She’d tried to time this outing with nightfall, but alas— too early, it seemed, and now she’d have to deal with the consequences.

Should she simply stay put until darkness and assassinate him in his sleep? No, that would take much too long; and besides, waiting required patience, and she—It— was a very impatient being. The culling would happen now.

Ailyn looked to the bag of gear sitting upon the couch beside her. In it were two machetes, a linked metal chain, her motorcycle keys and helmet; and one cellphone, which she’d use to photograph the occasion after all was said and done. The Immoral One loved savoring each moment like an infinity, each kill like the fondest memory. The Righteous One often made the deaths quick— this one, meanwhile, enjoyed Its trophies’ suffering. So it would be.

Withdrawing both machetes and the chain from her bag, Ailyn secured the bladed weapons in the two scabbards on either hip before wrapping the chain around her waist like a crudely-fashioned belt. Her motorcycle was parked inside the garage, out of sight. For a moment, she debated slashing the tires, but ultimately decided against it. A chase, she found, was much more... satisfying when concluded.

She was dressed in the same black leather bomber she always wore. Gloves obscured her permanently charred hands, while sunglasses helped obscure both the intense sunlight as well as a portion of her scarred face. If one were to look closely, however, one would be able to see the burning embers of the Immoral One’s eyes threatening to burn through the polarized lenses. Beneath a simple t-shirt and shorts was a bathing suit she decided to wear based simply on the fact that this was a private island— and hell, maybe when this was over, she’d celebrate.

Though her hair was usually shaved on her scarred side, she’d opted to grow out her haircut the last few months. It resulted in her looking, well, normal. Besides the scarred face, she might get away with calling herself pretty.

But she wasn’t looking to impress this fucker down on the beach. She was here to kill him and incinerate his corpse.

Standing up after all her gear was secured, Ailyn exited the beach house and made her way onto the sands. Though her footsteps were muffled by the sand, he might have been able to hear her; at this point, it didn’t matter either way. She’d stand a short distance away, short enough to close the gap and strike him, but not close enough to stand over his body and cover him with her shadow.

”Enjoying the sun?”
Last edited by Quirbles on Sat Jul 14, 2018 10:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Purge the Unholy [Closed IC]

Post by Ramses » Sat Jul 14, 2018 5:07 pm


The Eternal Victor pressed down on one arm of his sunglasses with his thumb and forefinger, lowering the shades to look up at the woman. All at once, a flood of information rushed through his mind, processed simultaneously with superior acumen. Dark clothes, weapons at her sides; moderately attractive; scars which suggested experience. He smiled.

"Little hot," he remarked candidly, though from his tone, it wasn't clear whether he was referring to the Sun, the hitwoman herself, or her choice of clothing. Maybe all three.

There's no way she knows who I am. I'm too careful. She's here to murder Ramsay Westing, not the Great Ramses, he processed silently, a small smirk playing across his lips as he shifted ever so slightly up onto his left elbow, only somewhat drawing his muscles in to prepare to explode off the ground if need be. To an onlooker it would seem as though he simply sat more upright to get a better view of the lady.


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Re: Purge the Unholy [Closed IC]

Post by Quirbles » Mon Jul 16, 2018 3:48 pm

"Mm." Ailyn grunted in response, taking her eyes of Ramsay for a moment to observe the waves crashing upon the shore. This small island was... immeasurably different than her regular sphere of operation. It was rare for Them to choose such a secluded target-- in Madagascar of all places-- but the borderline psychotic methods in which the beings within her worked was never something she questioned. To Them, she had no choice in the matter. And if she tried to refuse, there would be dire consequences.

"I hear people say that it's always the heat. Me, I... well, I've never been one to like the cold."

Truthfully, she could have worn a heavy parka out to this tropical island and it wouldn't have even made a distance. Just another one of the small human traits that They took away from her. Her body, her flesh reacts, but there isn't any pain. The charring of her extremities had occurred so often that her hands were just a blackened, scarred mess; still fully functional, and always hidden by the black gloves she had on. Her legs, thankfully, were often spared.

Ailyn didn't bother taking another step towards the man she came here to kill. Lowering her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, the burning embers of her red pupils were exposed for a moment; though, in the intense sunlight, they might have seemed like contacts above anything else.

"Ramsay Westing, is it? I'm sorry to say that I'm not here for an autograph, or to help you with... whatever it is you do to get a place like this. Though you already know that, right?"

Her stance tightened as the two machetes by her side were grasped at the handle. She took a step forward, now.

"Let's get this over with."

If he tried to run, tried to fight back-- it made no difference to her.

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Re: Purge the Unholy [Closed IC]

Post by Ramses » Tue Jul 17, 2018 2:52 am



The way she talked betrayed confidence, experience, and ruthlessness. Her hands were on her weapons now, and in response, he pinched his sunglasses a little harder, knuckles tensing, his leg muscles contracting ever so slightly in preparation for what he'd do next. She'd finished talking. He smirked.

"Let's."

In one fluid motion, he sprang from where he lay back on the ground, spinning on one foot to an upright position; as he did so, he pulled his sunglasses from his face, using the momentum of his spin to hurl them with incredible force at the woman's head.

There were several advantages apparent to him. Firstly, he was unarmed and likely assumed to be a non-combatant, meaning the element of surprise was on his side; secondly, she likely did not know he was a superhuman. This meant that his fantastic burst of speed would be totally unexpected, as there was no way she might know he was truly Ramses. She'd have come with an assault chopper if she did.

Thus, he elected not to retreat and retrieve more gear, but to press his assault. The moment the sunglasses left his hand, he'd push off with his other foot, launching himself towards the black-gloved assassin as a lion would launch itself towards its prey. Rising up into the air with his arms outstretched, he sought to tackle her into the sand, the sheer force of his rapid movement enough to fragment bones.



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Re: Purge the Unholy [Closed IC]

Post by Quirbles » Wed Jul 18, 2018 3:50 am

The sunglasses had, to some extent, been expected. People had a habit of throwing whatever was around them when in an improvised fight, and Ailyn knew this well; what she wasn’t expecting was the sheer force behind the throw.

Her right machete had been raised from its scabbard as soon as Ramsay had even made the slightest movement past her last sentence. She’d leveled it, point outwards, just in time to catch the sunglasses directly on the face of the left lens. She’d effectively blocked the sunglasses from slamming into her face, but in the process had fractured the lens into sharpened fragments; these shards embedded themselves into the scarred side of her face, letting loose small rivulets of blood. Fucking hell. At least it wouldn’t scar too bad.

The sunglasses throw left little time for her to react to the follow-up by Ramsay; admittedly, she hadn’t expected him to move so fuckin’ quick. This man, whether it be owed to one aspect or another, certainly wasn’t normal. She made a note of this as the man slammed her into the sands, knocking the air out of her and heavily bruising her ribs. The demons had been nice enough to grant her a little extra durability— especially in the bones— but healing, besides her skeleton, was limited in its enhancement.

Hoping to disorient him enough to get him off of her, Ailyn curled her hands into fists; making sure that her middle knuckle was edged slightly out above the rest of her fingers, the woman attempted to slam her curled-up hands into Ramsay’s temples in order to, at the very least, minorly concuss him. She’d follow up with bringing her elbows down onto the top of his head for good measure before lifting her legs up with... surprising strength, owed to Them more than her workout regimen.

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Re: Purge the Unholy [Closed IC]

Post by Ramses » Fri Jul 20, 2018 8:34 pm


The thrill of success was short-lived, giving way to brief confusion and uncertainty. She was still alive; more than that, she was fighting back. His tackle maneuver had been effective, but even when faced with superhuman strength and speed, this would-be assassin still writhed beneath his grip. That only meant that she had more up her sleeve than he anticipated. Any specter of guilt that might come from killing a human being evaporated instantly, as he knew that he'd been targeted by something inhuman.

"Time to die, you little sh-GAH!" he exclaimed, the utterly unexpected attack striking him perfectly as intended. The follow up blows and subsequent kick-off rolled him backwards into the sand, his vision spinning somewhat. What strength was this? Clearly more of a striker than a lifter, based on her build...or was this something more occult?

Getting his posture right, he pushed himself up to a standing position, letting his hands loosen. He raised his arms slightly, mantis-like, before him. He allowed his body to turn only slightly sideways; this preserved his ability to strike while also gave him the option of grappling again. Based on her strength, though, that seemed like a poor choice. More techniques streamed through his mind, a smirk flashing over his face once more. This was his game, and he knew how to play it. He could attempt to run, and retrieve his weapons...but for now? He was more than content to fight barehanded.

He let his right palm face the sky, and rapidly bent his fingers, beckoning her to make the first move.

Come on!


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Re: Purge the Unholy [Closed IC]

Post by Quirbles » Mon Jul 23, 2018 1:06 am

A challenge. Of course this asshole wanted a challenge.

The way he conducted himself— hell, the line he yelled at her when he had her pinned— screamed complacent, and for good reason. He was fast, he was deadly, and the bruises she’d have on her abdomen the next morning meant he was strong. She’d be able to keep herself on par with his advances for now, but if this turned into attrition, the most she had on him was durability. And even then, maybe he wouldn’t want to stay fuckin’ dead. Metahumans were like reaching into a fuckin’ hat and drawing slips of paper— hell, half the time their powers betrayed their appearance entirely. The surprise of powers was something Ailyn was very familiar with; and, given her current affliction, it was something she intended to extort when facing Ramses.

The assassin picked herself off of the ground, the satisfying pop of her joints sliding back into place showing that she wouldn’t be the easiest person to kill. She rolled her neck and grabbed her dropped machete from the beach, knocking the sand from its surace with a small beat of the wide edge against her pants before looking to Ramsay. Unbeknownst to her target, hopefully, she’d grabbed a handful of sand on her way up to her feet, shielding the move with her own torso. She held a closed fist, unassuming in its appearance save the short trail of sand that slipped between her knuckles for a moment. She waited for the soft breeze along the shore to falter as silence was shared between the two.

”That hurt.”

With frightening speed, she closed the distance between her and Ramsay, not even losing her footing on the sand despite the malleable nature of the ground. With one movement, she pulled back and attempted to cast the sand into Ramses’ eyes, halting her momentum to stop it from flying back in her face before lowering herself and slicing at her target’s leg, intent on having the curved nature of her bolo knife reach around the back of his knee and slice the weak-point there. With her now-free hand, she went to slam a curled fist into his gut, entering a near-squatting stance.

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Re: Purge the Unholy [Closed IC]

Post by Ramses » Mon Jul 23, 2018 11:49 pm


She obliged him. Him, Ramses, master of martial arts. How inferior a choice, he thought.

The advantage to fighting defensively was that it forced a foe to reveal more about themselves as they attacked, simultaneously exhausting their energy while also being exposed to counter-attacks. If Ramses knew one thing, it was close-quarters combat. He was bred for it, his biological father's enhanced genes gifting him with supernatural quickness, strength, and perceptiveness. He saw the sand particles trickle from Ailyn's hand, his bare feet shifting slightly in the soft sands as she charged him.

Languidly he allowed his head to fall to one side, the thrown sand cloud harmlessly passing by him; with his vision clear, he merely stepped back away from her swung knife, which narrowly passed by the front of his knee. Her impressive speed would have easily enabled her to land the follow-up punch to his gut, but it met only his open hand. Even then his arm recoiled slightly, the strength of the blow monstrous.

Now, though, he'd attempt to make the most of his newfound control over the fight. Clutching her fist in his own powerful left hand, he drew back his right. He'd launch four successive open-handed blows at her head, aiming to break her nose and, through the impacts, force the shattered bone fragments up into her brain.


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Re: Purge the Unholy [Closed IC]

Post by Quirbles » Tue Jul 24, 2018 2:02 am

Gritting her teeth at the three failed attacks, Ailyn attempted to withdraw her hand— only to find that it was stuck in Ramses’ grasp. She intended to deal with that in a moment, but the pressing matter of his fist whipping towards her skull seemed to take priority at the moment.

The punch connected in full force, snapping Ailyn’s head back and damaging her neck from whiplash. She let out a barely-audible grunt as the blood vessels in her septum broke and created rivulets of blood that streamed from her nostils. The second connected just as hard, landing with a horrible-sounding crunch as her head snapped backwards for a second time, the cartilege in her nose being moved out of place.

The third connected with her jaw as she tried to shift out of the way, the glancing blow doing little to stop her from dodging the fourth and final punch that Ramsay threw her way.

Within seconds of getting her bearings— arguably during the third and fourth punch— the hand trapped within Ramses’ grasp would heat up to a scalding temperature, enough to grace human skin with third-degree burns. Quickly breaking from her squat into a standing position, she went to slam her foot into Ramsay’s knee in an attempt to either kick it out or induce a dead-leg enough so she could regain her distance; all the while swinging her machete towards his stomach as an added attack he’d need to devote attention towards.

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